


What Syrinx never thought of

by vermicious_knid



Category: Krampus - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermicious_knid/pseuds/vermicious_knid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabel steals time and washes herself in the lake from time to time. It never occured to her that someone could be watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Syrinx never thought of

Licking her chapped lips, tasting the salt that lingers there. That strange taste of blood at the back of her throat due to lack of sleep. Again.

It’s a miracle really that she could convince him of this – to steal some time for herself to wash off. Despite what the others say whenever she is about to have words with their lord and master – they roll their eyes and say “well of course he’ll agree to whatever _you_ say.”

But she doesn’t understand them. Krampus never agrees to anything that can be easily taken, like time. Time is all that he has. They, his minions, was all he had.

A burning need for vengeance too.

Isabel takes the plastic bucket and fills it with water from the lake. She is glad that the season is warm, this task will be ever so much more tiresome come fall and wintertime. But summertime makes Krampus a cranky yule lord,

To make deals with Krampus, you have to know what creatures like him want. It’s a trick you have to play, and never in the same way or they’ll know it. And Krampus is, if not the king, but the grand duke of trickery.

They need to scratch their wits, and to do so you have to play games. There is something about the promise, the lure of a game that attracts feral things. And it can be any game, as long as it is something new, something different – a challenge perhaps. She’s given him puzzles from the back of cereal boxes, chess, an old and much battered RISK game, books of riddles stolen from some library or other – every time there is something she needs, that is the way to go.

And it’s not about winning. No. She does not let him win either, because that does not make him happy. Which was puzzling, at first. But then, a predator never really chases its prey unless it puts up a fight. And that, Isabel can do. It is what she is.

She dunks her whole body into the water and resurfaces with a content sigh. Even if she wasn’t exactly…. _pretty_ , anymore. It was still nice to be clean and not smell of dead birds or rats or whatever had been sleeping next to them in the cave they used. She has left her clothes in a neat pile by the shore of the lake by some bushes, warmed by a patch of sunlight filtered through the trees.

She takes the shampoo she’d stolen and lathers it in, watches with some disgust the dirt and caked blood disappear with the white foam into the blue-green water. She examines her hands, nearly as blue as the water but with darker maroon spots like large freckles covering every inch of her skin. She wonders what it would feel like to be normal again, pink and fresh and whole. Would she like it? After all this time?

She is surprised when she discovers that she isn’t sure anymore.

_Too much thinking now, too much bad noise._

She dives deep into the lake to drown it out. She can stay at the bottom if she likes, since they have no need for breath. Would she become a mermaid, if she stayed down here long enough?

But oh, then she remembers. HE can call her back whenever he likes. Has threatened to do so for a long time, evil smile on his ancient face.

Because he asks her, after the game has been played and he has consented. Has raked his eyes over her like he knows her body better than she does herself. Has said things with his eyes that never comes out of his mouth. But it is there when he asks her for how much time she will need.

Yes, he likes to play games indeed.

When Isabel resurfaces she takes a large breath, stands unashamed with her naked body half exposed and closes her eyes against the sun. This, she can still enjoy and pretend to be human. Being changed has not affected her thus. Maybe it is because of her defiant side, but part of her wishes that Krampus would call on her, right now. Wants to let him see that she is not afraid of him, that he can look at her blue and ugly body as long as he likes, and she will still look him in the eyes with the same spark she has always carried. But she is lying to herself, because something about that DOES make her afraid. But not of him.

Afterwards, she wonders if her thoughts are magic. Because there she is, naked by the shore and combing out her hair when she feels something…near. Close.

She looks up. And he is there.

A few steps into the darkening of the tall trees, a familiar dark figure with horns. He is still like a serpent, eyes gleaming from the light above the trees. Taller than she remembers.  Rather than being shocked at him being there at all, watching her – is the look in his eyes. It’s not predatory at all, but full of wonder and a barely concealed hunger.

She swallows, and remembers that it is Midsummers eve – the day when all beasts of this world walk free of their earthly chains, and magic stirs every forest, whispering and wanting and revealing what it is we really want.

(Somewhere not far from the scene, Puck sneaks away with a magic lantern in his hand and the promise of gossip to his fairy friends. )


End file.
